


Fourth time lucky

by CloudLeopard



Series: Brokeback Bangtan [7]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, Drug Withdrawal, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nipple Piercings, Rehabilitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudLeopard/pseuds/CloudLeopard
Summary: Jimin is back in rehab, for the fourth time in four years.What will it take to finally motivate him to defeat his demons for good?





	Fourth time lucky

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I've crested a wave with this one, after so much pain and angst in earlier chapters it feels like I'm finally getting Jimin and Jungkook where I want them to be.
> 
>  
> 
> I know I say this every time but I really do appreciate every one of the kudos and comments I get, knowing that I'm not the only one caught up in this AU keeps me writing, I probably would have let it fade out long ago without them.

Sat quietly in his little cell, Jimin was reading quietly, this time of the day was guaranteed peaceful. He looked around, the four walls almost close enough for him to touch if he stood in the centre. The room is painted a soft grey, the furniture is wooden, the only colour comes from his bedding, which is blue, and his personal belongings which he has already scattered around, making the room feel more like his.

He shouldn’t call it a cell really, although it felt like it when the door was locked behind him, he’d only been here six days and already the other inmate’s language had infiltrated his subconscious. It frustrated the many doctors who worked here. No matter how patiently they corrected everyone, between themselves they all referred to their private rooms as cells and themselves as inmates not clients, but it was kind of fun to rile the doctors.

This was the best place he’d been so far though, and after four years and four other facilities he feels like he’s got a pretty good depth of experience of Seoul’s addiction treatment centres, he can only hope that this time he can finally fucking stick to being clean and sober, four relapses so close together was testing everyone’s patience, his own included.

Right now, after a gruelling morning of individual therapy and lunch, it was reflection time, not that the other residents called it that either. They were locked back in their rooms, for an hour, supposedly to reflect on the morning's events, ready for sharing in group therapy in the afternoon. Reflection time was popularly referred to as wanking time by the centre’s lewder residents, guaranteed privacy isn’t a given in a place where all the doors have windows. Most people here are allowed to close their blinds for reflection time though, something they aren’t allowed to do at night for their own safety, so reflection time has become the only time you can get yourself off in total privacy. Jimin has only indulged once in his six days in here.

Reflection time is sacrosanct, so when someone knocks on his door only twenty minutes in Jimin nearly throws his book in shock. The person doesn’t even wait for an answer,

“Mr Park?” the disembodied voice calls, “I’m very sorry to disturb you but it is important we speak with you right away.”

“Umm, ok,” Jimin calls back, waiting for the door to be unlocked, but there is a pause before the voice calls again,

“are you, umm, fully dressed, Mr Park?”

Jimin almost giggles, clearly the staff knows to be careful before disturbing anyone during wanking time.

“Oh, yes, clothes all present and correct,” he calls back, wincing at his dumb choice of words.

He stands up, ready to speak to whoever is on the other side of the door, placing his bookmark between the pages of his book, not wanting to lose his place. The assistant who opens the door looks more stressed than Jimin would have expected, probably still concerned he might be sporting a huge, mid wank, erection.

“Follow me please Mr Park,” she asks him, tone gentle.

She leads the way to the offices, not somewhere that the inmates go apart from when they are admitted and again when they are released, neither of those apply to him now so he is confused. They stop at the door of his psychologist’s office, the assistant knocking and waiting until they are called in.

Dr Kwon sits at his desk, looking deeply at Jimin, and it worries him, Dr Kwon is usually pretty relaxed, unshockable and trustworthy, right now he looks like he’s trying to read Jimin’s innermost thoughts.

“Mr Park,” he starts softly, more gently than usual, “your father rang us about fifteen minutes ago, and he sounded very distressed and demanded to speak with you. Normally we do not allow any contact with the outside world for the first week, as we made you aware at your orientation.”

Jimin nodded, fully aware of the rules, wondering where this was going.

“In this case, we have decided to waive that rule, you may speak with your father now, but I am going to ask that the call is made in my presence, on speaker phone, so I may step   
in if I think there is anything being said that may harm your recovery. Do you consent to this?”

Jimin nodded again, uneasy, his dad didn’t do distressed or demanding, he was calm and steady, so just what the fuck was going on?

Dr Kwon reached for Jimin’s file, looking for the phone number, dialling for Jimin, and he listened as the sound of ringing echoed around the office, waiting for his dad to answer.

“Hello?” came his dad’s voice, and Jimin has an instant lump in his throat, he can tell from just that one word that something is terribly wrong.

“Dad?” he asks quietly.

“Jimin?” his dad replies, “oh thank god, I thought that they weren’t going to let me talk to you.”

“I’m here dad,” Jimin tells him, unsure what else to say.

“Oh Jimin, I’m so sorry to have to tell you like this, darling, its mum.”

Jimin hears other things, snatches of the rest of his dad's words, “massive heart attack,” “nothing anyone could do.” And he sits, frozen, just listening, because did his dad just say that his mum was dead? It cannot be real, this must be some sort of fucking hideous withdrawal nightmare that he’s going to wake up from shortly, sweaty and shouting.

Dr Kwon steps in, commiserating with Jimin’s dad, telling him that Jimin has gone into shock, that he will look after him, and that Jimin will ring back again later, after tea.

And Jimin just continues to sit, not even aware that he’s shivering.

 

 

The rest of the afternoon passes in a total blur, he’s aware that his body goes through the motions of group therapy, free time and tea, not that he speaks or eats. But his body collects his tray, carries it to his assigned seat, sits looking at his food, then when it’s time, carry’s his tray back, dumping the uneaten food in the bin and the cutlery and tray in the correct tubs for washing. It isn’t until Dr Kwon catches him on his way out of the dining hall that he remembers that he’s going to be talking to his dad again.

Miraculously he manages to get it together enough to talk to his dad, to reassure him that, as fucking devastated as he is, that he will be ok. It’s just words, he thinks nothing of the sort, and he wants nothing more now than to go on a massive fucking bender, taking all the pills he can find, washing them down with booze until he blacks out. But he’s in recovery, still in detox, and he won’t be going anywhere for another eleven weeks at the very least.

It’s that thought that finally makes him sob because if he’s locked away in here, he won’t be going to his mum’s funeral, and that’s unthinkable. Not for the first time he wants to really fucking kick himself, because if he were just a bit fucking stronger, if he hadn’t relapsed again, he wouldn’t be locked away in here, and he could go and be with his dad.

It takes a monumental effort to look at Dr Kwon and choke out,

“her funeral?” after he has hung up the phone from his dad.

Dr Kwon looks at Jimin with utter compassion,

“we will make arrangements for you to be there,” he tells Jimin softly, “with at least one staff member, but we won’t keep you from mourning your mum.”  
“Oh thank fuck,” Jimin breathes, slumping down in his chair with relief and grief, the sobs overtaking him again but it was kind of ok, he was going to be there with his dad.

 

 

Which is how, three days later, after only nine days in rehab, Jimin finds himself on the outside again, temporarily paroled, and back in Busan with Dr Kwon.

Everything has been explained to his dad, although how much he’s taken in is debatable, Jimin will be under clinic conditions, although timings will be relaxed, he still has to abide by the rules, and Dr Kwon will be his constant companion, and obviously, any alcohol is strictly forbidden.

Walking into his childhood house, knowing that just a few short days ago that his mum had died here, is nothing short of excruciating for Jimin. Everything looks normal, everything smells normal, but everything is not normal, there is a huge fucking hole in his life now. Jimin’s sobriety is on a knife edge, nine days is not enough time for him to be over the withdrawal symptoms entirely, although the worst is behind him, he knows from previous experience that it won’t be until at least the two week mark when he will really feel like he’ll be ok without the pills. He cannot numb the pain this time, cannot hide behind his usual crutches, somehow he has to survive this living nightmare one hundred per cent sober, and if he’s honest, he’s not sure that’s possible.

His dad seems numb, emotions locked down, just going through the motions, it hurts Jimin so much to see his dad like this, because his parents were truly a team, two halves of a whole, and now his dad has to find a way to be ok on his own.

Jimin shows Dr Kwon into the guest room, the room that was Yoongi’s for many years until he moved out too, when he comes back this is still his room, but for the next few days, it’ll be Dr Kwon’s base. Jimin has been given his expectations from not only Dr Kwon but the clinic as a whole, conditions he has to stick to in order to be allowed back in a couple of days, and not to have to restart the programme from the beginning. It’s incredibly restrictive, Dr Kwon will literally shadow him every moment, he will have even less privacy than he has locked in at the clinic, for the obvious reason that Dr Kwon cannot regulate this environment the way that the clinic can be. He will also be going through his usual sessions, although they will be one on one and fitted in around whatever Jimin’s obligations are. He accepts all the conditions without question because if there is one thing that hurts more than his mum dying when he was in fucking rehab, it’s the thought that he might relapse again and disappoint her. His mum has never been anything other than supportive towards him, worried, yes, especially when he first revealed the extent of his issues, and obviously when he relapsed, but she never gave up on him, and if there is one thing that Jimin wants to do desperately in her honour, it’s stick to the programme, and the follow up and to never fucking relapse again.

 

 

It is of course, easier said than done, but Jimin is more determined than ever, so when he wakes that first night home at just past 1.30 am, sweating, shaking and with the worst cramps in his stomach, he sits them out, breathing slowly the way he has been taught, visualising himself in the future, clean and happy. Even when the stomach cramps worsen, and he knows he’s just at the start of a bad time, he keeps breathing, willing himself to be ok. Even when he isn’t ok, having to lurch to his bathroom to vomit what little he’s managed to eat over the past few hours. Even when he wakes up to Dr Kwon wrapping him in a blanket and encouraging him back to bed after he’s passed out in his bathroom, his resolve stays strong in a way it never has before.

That night is so badly punctuated by episodes that by the time the morning rolls around, he and Dr Kwon look like they haven’t slept at all. Jimin awakens to murmuring from Dr Kwon, in his room and on the phone. He is discussing him with whoever is on the other end, his tone is clearly concerned and Jimin feigns sleep for a bit longer so that he can listen in. Dr Kwon is listing his symptoms, the frequency and intensity of which makes Jimin wince slightly, he knew he’d had a rough night, but withdrawal is never fun. He listens, confused, as medications are discussed, clearly Dr Kwon is considering medicating him, easing him through, and so Jimin waits for him to be done, faking waking up when he hears Dr Kwon wrapping up his call.

He stretches, yawning, and looks at Dr Kwon,

“morning,” he starts.

“Good morning Jimin,” Dr Kwon responds, “how are you feeling this morning?”

Jimin shrugs, “felt better,” he admits.

Dr Kwon nods, “your symptoms were still very intense overnight, and I was wondering if we’ve weaned you from the painkillers a little too quickly.”

Jimin just frowns so Dr Kwon continues, “I’ve just been speaking to Dr Lee, he agrees, so we’ve decided to put you on a very low dose of a medication that will ease the symptoms for an additional five days, we can take it from there once those days are up.”

Jimin just shakes his head, “no thanks,” he tells Dr Kwon quietly.

Dr Kwon frowns, “Jimin your body is struggling, this medication will help,” he tries to explain.

“Will anything really bad happen to me if I don’t take whatever it is?” Jimin asked.

Dr Kwon sighed, “nothing particularly bad no,” he conceded, “it’s more for your benefit, for your comfort.”

“Then I don’t want it,” Jimin told him stubbornly.

Dr Kwon sat in Jimin’s desk chair, wheeling it to the edge of the bed, almost like he was preparing for a counselling session, which of course he was.

“Can I ask why Jimin?” he asked reasonably.

Jimin bit his lip, willing himself not to cry, “I just don’t want to be medicated here, now, I want to be clean, for my mum,” he all but whispered.

Dr Kwon's expression softened, “ok Jimin,” he agreed, “but the offer is there ok? You don’t have to suffer through the symptoms, we can make this easier on you.”

There were many things that Jimin wanted to respond to that, like yes he did have to suffer through the symptoms, otherwise what is going to stop him relapsing again in another six months? He needs to feel this pain, this despair, and just a little bit of him said that he didn’t deserve the easy way anyway. It’s not like his addiction issues have been easy on other people, why should he get to take the easy option? He recognises that he should be telling Dr Kwon all of this, opening himself bare, but today he has to bury his mum, and he cannot make it all about himself, so he just nods, thanks Dr Kwon, and heads for the shower, he has to look the best he can today, to make his mum proud.

 

 

He travels to the funeral with his dad and Dr Kwon, the three of them looking slightly odd together, but Jimin didn’t give a shit. Yoongi is the first to find them, hugging Jimin and his dad in tight embraces, murmuring condolences to them, offering any possible help. His face is blotchy like he’s recently been crying, but he holds it together in front of Jimin and his dad. 

Then there is an exhausting stream of friends and relatives, Jimin greets them all, accepting their condolences, their praise at his success and their shock at his condition. He hasn’t really been around for many years now, not like this, so his incredibly slender frame and huge dark circles seem to come as a shock to a lot of people. He is fussed over, chided for not eating, and has his cheeks pinched more times than he would care to remember about. 

But it’s the one busybody that can always be found at weddings and funerals cornering him and demanding to know why he hadn’t given his mother the grandchildren that she so desperately hoped for that finally sent him over the edge.

He excused himself politely and makes his way to the privacy of the bathrooms, Dr Kwon on his heels, but he didn’t care anymore. The stomach cramps that he’d been successful in ignoring flared up worse than ever, so he pushed into the bathroom and fell to his knees in front of the closest toilet yet again.

He didn’t have time to register that the bathroom hadn’t been empty when he’d made his accidentally dramatic entrance, and because Dr Kwon was with him, rubbing his back as he retched, the stall door remained open.

Then there was a second hand soothing his back, bigger, stronger, and familiar. It took a few minutes for the spasms to fade again, for his body to stop trying to eject his empty stomach, before he can look up, eyes watering, and face flushed, to see Jungkook.

Despite how fucking disgusting he probably looked right now, Jimin was immensely grateful to see Jungkook there. Over the past four years, and four rehabs, Jungkook has been there, cheering him on, commiserating with him, being patient and kind, loving him. Jimin had resigned himself to no physical contact for a minimum of three months, only a few days ago, so his familiar face was a blessed fucking relief. 

He scrambled up, moving to the bank of sinks to wash his face and hands before turning back to Jungkook, and falling into his arms. Jungkook hugged him carefully, mindful of his body’s fragile state, whispering condolences into his ear.

Since his confession four years ago, he and Jungkook have been taking steps back towards friendship, keeping in contact, messaging each other, meeting up, and they were now better friends than ever. Jungkook is his rock, the one he can cling to, the one that is always in the same place, waiting, ready to anchor him. And Jimin still finds Jungkook incredibly attractive, obscenely so, but his first rehab had suggested no relationships until he had been clean for a year, and so far, he hasn’t hit the twelve month mark yet before relapsing.

They obviously hug for a beat too long, not kissing, but the bond between them is clear for anyone to see, including Dr Kwon, who is standing to one side, kind of awkwardly now, waiting for Jimin.

“Ahem, Jimin,” he interrupts, when he can take it no longer.

Jimin doesn’t let Jungkook go fully, just moves to his side, keeping one arm around Jungkook’s waist, Jungkook keeping one hand around Jimin’s shoulder, he smiles at Dr Kwon.

 

“Sorry,” he apologises, sounding anything but, “this is my very good friend Jungkook.”

Now Dr Kwon has only been Jimin’s lead Dr for the short nine days of his current rehab, but Jimin doesn’t really hold back during his sessions, already wanting to get well, so Dr   
Kwon knows exactly who Jungkook is, and who he is to Jimin, and his eyebrows obviously give him away, raising almost to his hairline in his surprise.

“Ahh yes, Jungkook,” he splutters out, trying and failing to be subtle.

Jungkook catches the reaction though, turning to Jimin,

“been talking about me huh?” he asks, voice soft.

Jimin just nods, “not just you though,” he assures Jungkook.

“Definitely not just you,” Dr Kwon agrees, making Jungkook look surprised, and slightly hurt.

Dr Kwon isn’t a leading psychologist for nothing, and he realises what he’s implied, “he’s quite the chatterbox about all aspects of his life,” he adds, trying to placate Jungkook.

They chat politely for a few minutes before they are interrupted by some long lost uncle goodness knows how many times removed coming into the bathroom,

“ahh Jimin, good,” he announces, “your dad thought you were lost, it’s time,” he finishes softly.

Jimin just nods, making his way out of the bathroom, as ready as he ever will be to face this.

 

 

It's every bit as awful as he could have imagined, three men sitting together in the front row, chief mourners, him, his dad and Yoongi. Yoongi had tried to protest, tried to insist he didn’t belong in the front row, but Jimin’s dad had held firm, he may not have been blood but he had been their unofficially adopted son for eleven years now, and so he belonged in the front row. Jimin’s dad sat, flanked on either side by his sons, only one blood, both just as precious, until it was time for him to speak.

Jimin had been asked if he would like to speak or do a reading, but he had refused, not feeling strong enough. His heart nearly ripped out when he saw his dad walk to the lectern, paper in hand, fumbling for his reading glasses. He stepped to the microphone, speaking before he was ready, filling the silence with his gentle self-depreciating humour.

“Sorry everyone,” he began, “but I need these to see. If you could all bear with me for a minute, this is the last thing I will be able to do for my lovely wife.”

He smiled a very small smile, cleared his throat, and began reading.

Jimin listened, as his dad spoke of many things, how he had met Jimin’s mum, their wedding, being blessed with a child, and then much later on in life, a second. Tears had started leaking from his eyes from the very beginning, but at the mention of the second child, a choked sob from his left made him reach for Yoongi’s hand, clutching it tightly. He knew that Yoongi was family from the first day he had come to live with them, even though he was already technically an adult. His parents had treated him the same as Jimin since that day, to hear in his mother’s eulogy how much Yoongi had come to mean to them was incredibly powerful. Yoongi wasn’t born his brother, he wasn’t raised his brother but, since they met, Yoongi has been there for him like a brother and he is nothing but glad that Yoongi is acknowledged alongside him today.

 

Once the service is finished, they move on to the wake, and yet more people come, to pay their respects, to remember. It is honestly the longest day Jimin can ever remember, and everyone wants to talk to him, it’s exhausting. Dr Kwon shadows him subtly, ready to step in but giving Jimin his space, for which he is truly thankful. He has just turned from the latest relative when he spots Choi Seunghyun approaching. Seunghyun is another person who has supported him through all of his ups and downs, covering for him while he’s been away, championing him on his returns, although he has never felt comfortable revealing all to him, Jimin trusts him, and a familiar face is a relief in this sea of near strangers.

“Jimin, I am very sorry for your loss,” Seunghyun starts, clasping Jimin’s hand in a comforting handshake.

Jimin doesn’t even get to respond before he’s aware of someone at his shoulder, Dr Kwon is there for some reason. Jimin looks at him perplexed briefly, before thanking Seunghyun and introducing the two men. It has to be his imagination, some stupid hangover from the withdrawal, because right from the first time they lock eyes Dr Kwon and Choi Seunghyun seem to be flirting with each other. Jimin has known Choi Seunghyun for twelve years now, and the man has never given him any hint that he could possibly like other men in that way. It’s true that when he outed himself at his very first exhibition, Seunghyun took it in his stride, sticking up for Jimin, seemingly unsurprised by the turn of events. But Jimin can’t return the favour right now, it’s all he can do not to gawp as the legend that is Seunghyun turns giggly under Dr Kwon’s gaze and friendly questioning. It isn’t unusual to see people exchanging business cards, phone numbers and details at a funeral, these events tend to bring people in to contact with others that they haven’t seen in years, and the ever present reminder of how short life is makes people reach out in a way that they are normally reluctant to. But seeing Dr Kwon and Choi Seunghyun exchange business cards makes Jimin think they have zero interest in each other professionally, and for the first time today it makes him feel like actually smiling. He’s desperate to go and gossip with Jungkook, to tell him everything, to get his opinion, but as soon as he goes to move away, Dr Kwon goes with him, so he doesn’t get the chance.

The rest of the day passes, thankfully without further incidents from meddling relatives, Jimin has cried more times than he wants to think about as people share memories of his mum, things he had no clue about until now, which makes him both sad that he didn’t know, and happy that she had a life outside of their family unit, then finally it’s time to go home.

 

 

A very select group come back to the house, very close family and friends only, for which Jimin is grateful, he is thoroughly exhausted from not sleeping last night, and all he wants to do is lie down. Jungkook is with them and Jimin steals him away, needing cuddles right now. As they head for his bedroom Dr Kwon stops them, an understanding but uncompromising look on his face,

“door open Jimin,” he reminds him.

Jimin nods, “I’m not going to fuck him,” he responds tiredly, “I just need a hug.”

Dr Kwon nods, “Mr Jeon is supportive to your recovery?” he questions, looking hard at Jungkook.

Jungkook just looks confused but Jimin understands,

“of course he is, pat him down if you want, I’m sure he won’t mind,” he replies.

Jungkook looks even more confused but holds his arms up ready, “why?” is the only thing he asks.

“Checking you aren’t going to slip me anything,” Jimin explains, just a little sadly.

Poor Jungkook looks scandalised, “I would never,” he gasps, grabbing at his pockets, emptying the meagre contents into a bemused Dr Kwon’s hands. When he’s done, Jungkook pulls the pockets inside out, to show that was everything, face the picture of innocence, and Dr Kwon smiles in return.

“Ok, good, rules still apply though, door open,” he tells them both, returning Jungkook’s possessions to him.

Jimin flops onto his bed, reaching for Jungkook who joins him and hugs him, stroking his hair in a soothing rhythm, relaxing Jimin more that he thought was possible. His breathing slows and deepens, Jungkook’s oh so familiar scent and strong arms lulling him off to sleep.

 

 

When he wakes again it’s dark and silent, in the middle of the night he assumes, and it’s because of the familiar cramps. They should be easing by now, this is the longest they’ve ever taken, and it sucks so much. Jungkook is still there, still sleeping on top of the covers where they fell asleep, lips parted slightly, looking like the picture of relaxation, and Jimin wishes he was still sleeping next to him. Instead he swings his legs to the edge of the bed, getting up as quietly as he could, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water, hoping having a few sips in his stomach will settle it. He nearly has the shit scared out of him by Dr Kwon, seriously, does this guy never sleep? They sit together in the lounge, Dr Kwon talking him through some breathing and relaxation exercises, making sure the sips of water he takes are tiny enough not to startle his very on edge stomach. And this time he makes it through without being sick, which is a small but very welcome victory. Despite the sweat on his forehead Jimin feels better once this episode is over, they’re getting better, and he is getting better. Dr Kwon sends him back to bed, and he is the one to pull Jimin’s door shut, trusting him, making Jimin’s heart swell so much his eyes threaten to tear up yet again. He’s barely back in bed before Jungkook is reaching for him, hugging him in his sleep, and Jimin can’t help but give him a kiss on the forehead, this time he was going to make it.

 

 

The following morning he has to go back, for all the progress he has made, it’s still just the start of his journey so it’s back to the clinic, his cell, the endless counselling and his one hour of wanking time.

He hugs his dad, promising to call as soon as he is allowed, he hugs Jungkook, thanking him out loud for being there yesterday, internally promising himself that this will be the time that he makes his way back to Jungkook, and hugging Yoongi who he knows will be by his father’s side while he can’t be.

 

 

On the Friday of his third week in the centre, he’s allowed to receive the first contact from the outside world, letters from people. They are opened and read beforehand, checked for contraband and for any hidden messages, but Jimin doesn’t care. Today he will also have access to writing materials, so he can respond to these letters too, and he’s excited.  
Life on the inside can be hard, the withdrawal is over now, thank goodness, and for the first time, he feels properly committed to recovering. But that means fully participating in the counselling, both individual and group, talking about everything that has gone wrong, all of the things that he’s done in the past, and it’s hard to admit just how fucked up he’d allowed himself to get. Some of the things he has to open up about are too hard to say, and the counsellors are good, recognising how far they can push people, but it just means that whatever he can’t talk about today will be discussed at some point in the future, and it’s stressful.

These letters, this contact from the outside world, comes only once a fortnight, but they are precious and wonderful, and a reminder that there is still a life out there waiting for him.

Today he has a lot of letters, more than he was expecting, and the sight of all these envelopes makes his heart swell with pride. He peeps inside, to see who they are from, and sorts them in the order he wants to read them. Business first, yes, even one from Choi Seunghyun, which makes him smile, friends next, ones from Jackson, Yoongi, Taehyung and Seokjin and Namjoon, and then his dad, knowing that’s likely to be hard, even though he’s been allowed to ring him since the funeral to check in with him, this is the first letter he’s ever had from just his father, he does, of course, save Jungkook’s for last.

Seunghyun talks about an exhibition he hopes that Jimin will consent to when he’s recovered, about the theme, maybe a whole series on rebirth? Jimin considers it, it’s not a bad idea, but probably not suitable for yet, he’d prefer to leave that theme until he’s sure that this is the last time he will come to rehab, otherwise, in hindsight, it’d probably seem quite hollow.

Jackson sounds bored, with only Jimin to work for, and Jimin being locked away, he had precious little to do compared to normal. Jackson still has to sort out Jimin’s life admin though, which he privately thinks is probably more than enough to keep him busy. There is a mention of a woman and that makes Jimin properly smile, it’s about time Jackson had time to have some fun. He makes a note to write back to tell him exactly this, to tell Jackson to abuse his credit card privileges on Jimin’s expense account, it sounds like a good use of his money anyway.

Yoongi is the same as ever, acting for all of the world like he’s Jimin’s older brother not younger, telling him to work with the doctors and stay healthy and that he’s taking care of Jimin’s dad so he’s not to worry. This is actually a big concern of Jimin’s, and he knew Yoongi would be there for his dad, but it’s good to read in Yoongi’s neat and tidy handwriting that his dad is doing ok.

Taehyung writes all about a girl he’s met, spilling his innermost, and kind of too much information thoughts about her in his letter. He rambles on so much that Jimin can almost hear him speaking his words out loud, and it makes him grin. Taehyung has been content to flit from relationship to relationship, not committing to anyone, but suddenly, from the way he is gushing, Jimin thinks he may have actually fallen in love.

Namjoon and Seokjin have the biggest surprise for Jimin, they write to tell him about having their first meeting with an adoption agency. Most agencies will not consider a gay couple, but they have found one that handles private adoptions, that will consider them. They are both ecstatic at the idea that their dreams of fatherhood may actually come true. They would be wonderful and loving fathers, and so Jimin hopes fervently that their dreams will come true. He'd like to offer to support them, although he doubts that having a character reference from him would help their case one little bit, he’ll find a way to help somehow.

His dad sounds stoic, like he’s trying not to worry Jimin while at the same time letting him know that his mum will never be forgotten. He decides that his dad doesn’t need a similar reply, he needs a raw and honest version of how Jimin is doing, and then hopefully his dad will realise that its ok to open up to him, and let him know how he’s truly doing.  
Jungkook sounds normal. He has sent letters every time Jimin had been in rehab, sometimes they’ve had to pile up, as Jimin hasn’t been allowed them, sometimes they’ve come as often as twice a week, but this feels perfect. This is not so often that he’ll be distracted by the real reason for being here, and not so infrequently that he forgets what he’s actually fighting for out there.

Jungkook’s letter is full of little stories to make him smile and he will keep this one, the way he has kept all of the others. Jungkook always signs off in the same way,  
“you can do this, I know you can. I love you, I am yours, Jungkook.”

 

I am yours has come to mean a lot over the years, at first it was love, signifying that they loved each other and only each other. But, without analysing it, they both understand that those words mean more now. They mean that deep down, at a soul level, no matter what, they only belong to each other. They may be held back by many things right now, by their past, by their present, but one day, no matter how long they have to wait, one day, they will be each other’s all and only. 

 

 

Jimin spends the next two days of both his free time and his reflection time writing back to everyone, telling them everything he wanted to. He cheers on Namjoon and Seokjin, offering to pay for the best interior designer to design them a nursery when the time came. Thanking Yoongi, again, from the bottom of his heart for looking after his dad. Telling Seunghyun he would think about the exhibition and what direction he wanted to take, he couldn’t draw properly in here but he could sketch, and that will just have to do for now. He told Jackson to take more time off, to woo the girl good and proper, to use Jimin’s apartment, as long as he promised to stay out of Jimin’s bedroom and the studio. He told Taehyung a similar thing, to go for it with the woman he was interested in, and telling him to write back with less details thank you very much. To his dad he wrote a long, heartfelt and honest letter, apologising for all of the years of worry he's caused his parents, for not being there right now. And for Jungkook he writes back with his own silly stories, illustrating them with sketches, drawing his cell, telling him about wanking time, and not illustrating himself during that, he annotates the drawings, hoping to make Jungkook smile at least and, when he finally gets all of the letters sent, he feels lighter than ever.

 

 

He works hard for the next fortnight, blurting out all of the vile truths he’s held inside himself, feeling himself lightening with every session. He thinks he knows now why he’s kept relapsing, he’s never wanted to fully face up to every little thing, but now he’s making the effort to do so. 

So when he has a particularly hard morning session that sparks off memories in reflection time he notes them down, sharing them that same afternoon in group sessions. He doesn’t face judgement from the others like he’s always expected, they listen to his tales of giving every grubby bastard he came across blow jobs in dark alleys and worse and they counter with their own, eerily similar tales. It’s sad and dirty and ugly as well as freeing and cathartic and healing.

 

 

Dr Kwon has been impressed with Jimin’s progress, telling him so, and that only spurs him on more, making him want to take this opportunity and wring everything he can out of it. They talk about his past, from his childhood, through the Jungkook years and through the addiction years, they cover everything in the three months that Jimin is contracted to stay, and he learns more about himself in those three months than he thought was possible.

The letters help to keep him going, he’s sending more and more people his silly sketches, and sometimes they even send drawings back, making him howl with laughter, especially at Jungkook’s awful stickman efforts. But he appreciates every single one, re-reading them all many times until he knows them off by heart.

He’s two days away from his first potential release date when Dr Kwon finally brings it up,

“so, how are you feeling about possibly leaving us soon?” he asks Jimin.

Jimin exhales sharply, “honestly?” he starts, not bothering to wait for Dr Kwon’s answer because obviously, he needs to be honest, “a lot of things, excited, nervous, you know?”

Dr Kwon nods, “excited is good,” he tells Jimin, “can you explain a bit more about nervous?”

Jimin sighs again, “It’s just, going back, you know, to the places that I was, seeing the people that I did when I wasn’t sober, they’re going to expect me to be a certain way, and I’m not any more, don’t want to be that anymore.”

Dr Kwon nods again, “do you think that’s a bad thing?” he checks.

Jimin shakes his head, “no, it’s just, I found some of the stuff really hard, like the in your face socialising stuff, I used the booze and pills to get me through it all but now what?”

Dr Kwon smiles, “the same way we’ve discussed that you will now cope with any situation Jimin, there is no difference. And if people are crass enough to point out that you have changed, which they are very unlikely to do to your face, then you owe them nothing, no explanation, you can, in fact, if you choose, just walk away. The people that count, your friends, your family, they know what you’ve been through don’t they? Nobody that matters will question you.”

Jimin nods, knowing he’s right.

“I am going to recommend that you are released at this point Jimin, you have fully engaged with the programme and you seem very determined, but you know this isn’t the end though don’t you?”

Jimin nods much more fervently, even if it wasn’t recommended he would want further help, he knows he isn’t ready to do this totally alone yet.

“Good,” Dr Kwon tells him, “I think we are close enough here to your home for you to come back for your sessions?” He checks.

Jimin just keeps nodding, he should probably be saying stuff, but all that keeps going around in his head is release, I’m being released, in like two days, I’m going home.

“Ok, so for the next nine months, I am going to suggest you come in to the centre for sessions, starting with five times a week, which I’m sure seems like a lot, dropping down to once a fortnight by the end, I’ll give your proposed appointments at your release appointment. While we understand that life will start to go back to normal once you are released and that you may need to reschedule some of these due to your career, I must request that you do it as little as possible, for your own benefit.”

Jimin nods, and finally manages to speak, “of course,” he agrees amiably.

“You can, of course, request extra sessions if you feel as if they would be of benefit to you at any point,” he adds reassuringly.

“Ok,” Dr Kwon carries on, shutting Jimin’s file, steepling his fingers and swallowing hard, “that being said, I must speak with you about an entirely different matter.”

He looks uncomfortable and awkward, and for the life of him Jimin can’t work out why.

“I, umm, well, you may recall,” Dr Kwon stumbles before sighing and mumbling, “gosh this was very unprofessional,” under his breath before he pushes on.

“When we travelled to your hometown for your mother’s funeral, I was introduced to, amongst many others, your principle art dealer?” Dr Kwon questions, seeing if Jimin remembers.

And he does, a sudden flashback of their shy flirting slamming back into his mind making him smile knowingly.

Unexpectedly, it makes Dr Kwon blush lightly and Jimin struggles not to giggle, instead nodding encouragingly, waiting for Dr Kwon to continue.

“Jimin you know I am bound by a professional ethics code don’t you? I cannot discuss anything that you divulge with anyone other than other doctors on your case.”

Jimin smiles, “yeah I know,” he tells Dr Kwon, wanting to let him off the hook he’s so neatly entangled himself on, “its fine, go for it.”

Dr Kwon almost hiccups in shock, “what?” he asks quietly.

“You and Choi Seunghyun, like each other right? Want to date or whatever? It’s cool, I don’t want to like double date with the two of you or anything but, you know, just go for it, he’s a good guy.”

Dr Kwon gulps, “ok, thank you Jimin, I…” he tails off, and Jimin isn’t sure which of them is more relieved when he drops the conversation.

“In that case,” he resumes, his professional Dr voice back and standing up from his chair, reaching for Jimin’s hand to shake it, “I will see you tomorrow morning as usual, we will discuss what happens next, and then on Friday we will do your release paperwork and interview and you will be able to leave the centre around lunchtime. You can probably start packing Mr Park, good job.”

 

Jimin practically floats back to his room, both hyper-aware of everything and taking nothing in, beyond excited at the prospect of leaving, beyond nervous that he’s going to have to carry on fighting his demons alone. 

He starts aimlessly packing things that he won’t need in the next couple of days, extra clothes, books, but there isn’t much. Then he finds the bundle of letters, grown large over the past three months. He carries them over to this bed, spreading them out around him, remembering all the words of support and encouragement that they contain, and then he feels much less like he has to do this alone. He doesn’t, he still has the clinics back up, and what sounds like a pretty heavy counselling schedule to start. He has his friends and his family, people that have chosen to stay in his life despite everything, and the worries start to fade. In its place swells hope and determination, filling him up. He’s never been particularly religious or spiritual, probably one of the reasons that the first, very religious based rehab, failed he doesn’t believe in any particular religion, but in this moment of realisation, he imagines that his mum is keeping an eye on him, feeding him strength from somewhere, protecting him even after death, and the idea wraps itself around him like the most comforting hug.

 

 

Two days later, with his bags packed and his appointment schedule in hand, Jimin is collected from the centre by a very pleased looking Jackson. 

“I’ve missed you,” Jackson told him sincerely, hugging him before taking his bag and stowing it in the car, “how are you?”

Jimin hugged him back, “I’m good,” he told Jackson, “really good.”

“I…” Jackson started, looking a little shifty, “umm, are you up for a bit of company?” he checked.

Jimin looked at him quizzically, “what sort of company?” he asked.

“I may have told a few people that you were getting out today,” Jackson told him, grimacing slightly as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Ahh, for fuck's sake Jackson,” Jimin groaned, “I haven’t been out of rehab for five damn seconds and you want me to socialise?” 

“I can call ahead, tell them to leave,” Jackson offered, “but I think you’ll be ok,” he finished.

Jimin just rolled his eyes, “I’ll give whoever it is half an hour,” he growled, “then you need to get them to fuck off ok?”

Jackson grinned, “no problem,” he agreed, leaving Jimin to wonder just what he’s got himself into already.

 

Jackson walked ahead of him into his silent apartment, it was decorated most ridiculously, with balloons and streamers and a banner welcoming him home. It looked like a party for a seven-year-old, with no guests, and Jimin turned to Jackson quizzically,

“you and I are having a party by ourselves?” he asked, barely finishing the question before people popped up from everywhere, yelling ‘surprise’ at him, making him reel back clutching his chest.

“Fucking hell,” he yelled in shock, “what the fuck?”

He looked around at the grinning faces, extracting themselves from behind his furniture and making their way over to him. Stupidly a massive lump grew in his throat as he noted who was here, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Seokjin, his dad and Jungkook, he accepted hugs and backslaps and congratulations from them all. Everyone is loud and excited, and for no reason Jimin is suddenly overwhelmed, the tears that had threatened before started to slide down his face and he panicked, fleeing the room and shutting himself in his bedroom, sitting cross-legged on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, burying his face into the familiar smelling fabric, willing himself to stop shaking. 

He’s nearly calmed down when there is a soft knock on his door, and as much as he would like to ignore it and hide in here forever he knows he’s already treated his friends like shit today, so he needs to man up, so he calls out a quiet,

“come in,” at the door.

Jungkook opens it, stepping in and closing the door behind him but not coming any closer,

“Min?” he asks, “you doing ok?”

Jimin hiccups out a watery giggle, “think I failed the first test,” he told Jungkook sadly.

Jungkook shook his head firmly, “it’s our fault Jimin, we shouldn’t have all come today, I’m sorry, everyone is getting sorted to leave.”

Jimin’s head shot up, “no,” he said softly, “go tell them not to go, I just need a minute, it’s just all a bit…”

Jungkook nodded, “yeah, too much,” he winced, “do you really want people to stay?”

Jimin nodded, “yeah, I might come out, I might stay in here but tell them not to leave just because I’m freaking out a bit,” he pleaded.

“Ok,” Jungkook agreed, “I’ll go and tell them? Can I come back and see you for a bit?”

Jimin nodded, “yeah,” he told Jungkook.

So Jungkook left, and Jimin can hear the murmurings from the other end of his apartment, he feels awful for running out, and he’ll explain to everyone, just maybe not all at the same time.

When Jungkook comes back he’s holding a plate and cup, wielding them like peace offerings, contrite look on his face,

“I’ve told everyone to go ahead and eat,” he told Jimin, “but I thought you might want something too?”

Jungkook is still hovering, not wanting to get too close, not wanting to scare Jimin any further, but all Jimin wants right now is a hug, so he places the pillow to one side of him and raises his arms, peeping up at Jungkook through his fringe, and of course, Jungkook gets it.

He crosses the room quickly, putting the cup and plate on the bedside table before he wraps himself around Jimin, and now, Jimin truly feels like he’s at home.

Jungkook pulls away after a couple of minutes, making intense eye contact with Jimin before asking him,

“can I kiss you Min?”

Every fibre of his body is screaming for Jimin to say yes, but this time he’s going to do things right, so he reluctantly shakes his head, sure that Jungkook’s look of disappointment is echoed on his face.

“One year rule,” he breathes, knowing he’s explained about it to Jungkook before.

“Dammit,” Jungkook grumbles with a little understanding grin on his face,

“it’s going to be the most frustrating year ever.”

Jimin smiles softly back, “technically only nine more months,” he points out.

Jungkook groans, “nine months is forever,” he teases.

Jimin is still smiling, but there is a little bit of doubt in his heart, and he wants to know,

“will you wait for me?” He checks softly.

Jungkook looked at him like the answer should be obvious, “Min I would wait for you forever, I thought you already knew that,” he told Jimin.

Jimin nodded, “I have to do this right this time,” he explained to Jungkook, this has to be the last time I go through this.”

Jungkook hugged him again, murmuring in his ear, “whatever you need,” he told Jimin softly, “I’ve got your back, I’m here.”

Jimin let Jungkook tempt him with the food he’s brought in, it’s delicious, and Jimin eats it all. Once he’s done he sends Jungkook back out, asking him to see if anyone else wants to come and visit with him. The answer is that everyone does, of course, and so one by one, they come and chat to Jimin, apologising to him for scaring him, him apologising for overreacting. By the end he’s exhausted and, despite the fact it’s barely 9 pm, he’s ready to sleep. He asks Jackson to hang around, letting whoever wants to stay, stay and then he sleeps, alone in his big bed, but home.

 

 

Jimin works so damn hard over the next nine months, he had thought that the hardest bit would have been the initial detox and being locked away, he was wrong. Normal life, working out what normal life looked like now, was way harder.

He mostly sticks to the schedule of appointments that Dr Kwon has set out for him, alongside drawing for his latest exhibition, but there are times when things overwhelm him again, and the temptation to just have one drink gets intense. Then he schedules in an extra session or two, sometimes just ranting at Dr Kwon, wanting some sort of magic bullet to just make these fucking cravings go away. 

The lead up to the exhibition is the hardest yet, his sessions should have dropped to once a fortnight by now, but he’s increased them to at least three times a week, and instead of being frustrated with him, Dr Kwon has nothing but praise for him. He is fast approaching his one year of sobriety, and the fact that he’s increased his sessions as a coping mechanism is seen as a positive thing. It feels like a backwards step to Jimin but he trusts Dr Kwon’s judgement, so he goes with it.

It’s just a week before the exhibition when Choi Seunghyun approaches him, he looks nervous, and Jimin immediately wonders if he’s going to need an emergency session after this conversation.

“Jimin, I would like to invite someone to your exhibition as my personal guest,” Seunghyun starts, “but I understand that it may make you uncomfortable.”

Jimin has never been asked for his input on Choi Seunghyun’s guests before, so he’s confused.

“I’d like to invite Jiyong if you don’t mind,” Seunghyun concludes.

Jimin just looks at him, one eyebrow raised in question, “who?” he asked.

Seunghyun clears his throat, “Jiyong,” he tells Jimin again, and then when there is clearly no recognition from Jimin, adds, “Kwon Jiyong, Dr Kwon.”

Jimin suddenly gets it, he hadn’t actually known Dr Kwon’s first name, “oh,” he squeaks out, voice sounding more shocked than he actually felt, “that’s fine, yeah, no worries, umm, whatever,” he rushes.

Seunghyun looks relieved, smiling broadly, “thank you Jimin,” he tells him earnestly, “it’ll be nice to have him there.”

Despite the fact that he’s been an adult for fourteen years now and things like this shouldn’t phase him, Jimin can't help but feel like he’s just been asked for permission for his teacher to openly date his headmaster, it’s all kinds of weird.

 

 

It isn’t as weird as the sight of the two of them at the exhibition, walking just slightly too close together, looking at each other with loving expressions, Seunghyun, sliding an arm around Dr Kwon’s slim waist to steer him towards different drawings. It’s undeniably odd, but kind of cute too, and despite their quite different backgrounds, Jimin can see how the two of them would work as a couple, and it makes him long for his year to finally be up so that he can officially start to date Jungkook.

 

 

Six weeks after his exhibition Jimin finally hits a target that he hasn’t managed to hit probably since childhood, one whole year of total sobriety. He has successfully abstained from all alcohol, drugs and sex, focussing fully on making sure he is completely well again, and he really is.

When he showers this morning he pays close attention to how his body has changed over the last year. When he entered rehab he was underweight, his skin was almost grey, his hair was limp and lifeless and he never seemed to be 100% bruise free. Today he is a changed man, he has gained weight in the shape of muscles, he’s no bodybuilder but he’s very nicely toned and his skin is lightly bronzed. His hair is still dark, but he has just started to notice a couple of grey strands starting to form at his temples. They should depress him, but actually, he looks at them with pride, with what he’d put his body through, there was no guarantee that he would even survive, so the grey is fine, part of him, an achievement of sorts. Even today though he’s not bruise free, he pokes at the small one on his hip, where he’d bumped into one of his easels last night, as he’d backed away from another to look at the drawing from a distance, rolling his eyes at himself in the mirror at his own clumsiness.

He dresses in some of his newer clothes, the older ones being too small now, he really needed to go through his wardrobe and get rid of the tiny things, another step to letting go of old Jimin. The thought makes him happy and he makes a mental note to do that later in the week when he has some free time.

 

 

He knows before he gets to the centre that, unless he requests it, this will be the last time he walks through these doors, he never imagined it but he’s going to miss this place and Dr Kwon. It isn’t too dramatic to say that his life was saved within these walls, and there is no way he will ever be able to thank everyone involved enough.

The drawing that he’s brought today, to try and at least convey how grateful he is, is one of the hardest he’s done to date, for the simple reason that this one contains words. It turns out that while he can draw people and objects with incredible clarity, his handwriting sucks, and so writing the clinic name legibly and beautifully has been the most ridiculous challenge. He’d finally managed it though, writing it in a gently curving arc above the smiling faces of all of the staff that work here. He wanted to convey hope to every person that walks through those doors, people who are desperate and afraid like he was, so he’s arranged for an accompanying piece. Everyone that graduates the clinic now will, if they consent, have their names engraved on a wall of successes, Jimin has envisaged different milestones, people that have achieved one year, five years, ten years even, to be celebrated here, and he wants to be one of them, wants to come back in years to come, to have his name added as he achieves each level.

His last session with Dr Kwon is both bittersweet and kind of shocking. Hearing his admission report again sends a cold shiver through him, he’d been asked to be honest about his usage of drugs and alcohol, but they’d tested him anyway, to be sure they detoxed him safely, and he’d been caught lying. It’s the first time he’s been confronted with this evidence and he’s ashamed.

Dr Kwon is sweet to him,

“I’ve never had someone tell me the full truth at admission yet Jimin, you’re not unusual,” he chuckles gently, “it is the nature of an addict to lie, but how do you feel about it now?”

“Like a dickhead,” Jimin tells him bluntly, making Dr Kwon bark with laughter,

“that’s one way to put it,” he remarked.

They analysed it, as usual, Dr Kwon making sure that Jimin understands why he’d done it, and how he’s moved passed that person now, Dr Kwon adding,

“your achievement wall idea is a testament to the fact that you have changed.”

Jimin nodded, “I want to be in every section of that wall,” he confides, almost shyly.

“You will be,” Dr Kwon tells him simply, “I have seen many people come through these doors,” Dr Kwon continues, “people with more money and less, more fame and less, more support and less, none of that matters at the end of the day, what matters is your own motivation and determination. So far I have predicted to myself, with 100% accuracy, who will relapse and who won’t, and you Jimin, won't.”

Jimin looks at him, shocked, because that didn’t seem like a very professional statement to make at all.

“Before you ask, no I don’t tell the people I think are going to relapse,” Dr Kwon continued, “but I do recommend that they stay with counselling for longer. You, I am happy to discharge, with the understanding that we will be here for you if you ever need us again.”

All Jimin can do is nod, because Dr Kwon has literally told him that he won’t relapse, and, although he had faith in himself, knowing a professional had that much faith was still a huge boost.

Jimin leaves the centre, with handshakes and hugs from all the staff he can find.

His last session is on a Tuesday, a ridiculous day for an ending, made all the more annoying because Jungkook can’t come before Saturday, meaning that despite the fact he’s waited for over a year now to kiss anyone he still has to wait a couple more days.

 

 

The first time he had kissed Jungkook had been really fucking memorable, how could he ever forget a drunk and naked eighteen-year-old Jungkook making the first moves on him in his bed? But it was nothing compared to the anticipation he’s felt leading up to this moment. He’s waited more than four years to get his lips back onto Jungkook’s. He’s been through countless shit, too many rehabs, the loss of his wonderful mum and probably about a million counselling sessions. But here, now, after surviving all of that, Jimin is finally ready to start again.

Rehab is over, officially at least, although Dr Kwon has suggested that checking in every month or so might be a good idea, if he feels like he needs it, that’s Jimin’s choice now, but one that he will make with Dr Kwon’s guidance, trusting him to keep him on the straight and narrow.

Saturday is finally here, and Jungkook is on his way, he’d text earlier to let Jimin know he was leaving and all he can do now is wait.

Of course, Jungkook is going to celebrate this milestone with him, where else would he be? Jungkook had waited as patiently as Jimin for this moment, his support never wavering, through all of the rehabs and relapses, and now Jimin is ready.

 

 

When Jungkook finally arrives, to shy smiles and a slightly awkward air around them, they sit, side by side, sipping grape juice. Jimin had committed a long time ago now to total sobriety, no alcohol will pass his lips again he’s decided. He’s worked too hard and come too far and Jungkook is completely supportive. He and Jungkook aren’t the kids they once were, they are men, weighted down by years more baggage, lifted up by their sheer determination.

Jungkook moves first, placing his own glass and then Jimin’s on the table, he wraps his arms around Jimin in a celebratory hug that rapidly turns into him caressing Jimin’s body. A body that is now fuller, more muscular, healthier than it’s been in years, addiction replaced by exercise, eating well and taking care of himself and Jungkook’s surprise and appreciation is evident in his wandering hands.

Jungkook may have made the first move, but its Jimin that moves in for the first kiss, pressing his lips hesitantly to Jungkook’s, breaking apart after barely ten seconds, its already enough to have him panting for more.

“This ok?” he checks with Jungkook, feeling suddenly shy for some reason.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically, “God yeah, if it’s ok with you?”

His eyes dart down to Jimin’s lips, licking at his own involuntarily.

Jimin’s stomach flips and he just squeaks,

“please.”

Jungkook moves in closer again, lips parted slightly to take one of Jimin’s between his. Jimin can hardly suppress his gasp as Jungkook sucks lightly, and then his hands are in Jungkook’s hair, pulling him in as close as he can get him, licking into his mouth, tasting the grape juice and Jungkook on his tongue. It is beyond exciting, Jimin moves into Jungkook’s lap, straddling his thighs, pressing as much of himself against Jungkook as he can, writhing at the amazing sensations zipping through his body. He is hard in an instant, regretting choosing jeans that restrict him almost painfully, wanting nothing more than to open them and get either his or preferably Jungkook’s hand on his aching dick.  
Jimin’s brain officially checks out, he hasn’t had Jungkook’s body properly against his like this in nine fucking years, he’s had hugs, of course, so many hugs, but nothing like this, that felt so incredible and promised so much more. He slides one hand down between him and Jungkook, yanking at the buttons of his fly, popping them open, releasing some of the pressure, groaning out loud at the relief. He wasn’t going to touch himself, god knows he’s done enough of that through the drought years, but he is beyond desperate for some sort of stimulation and he can’t resist pushing his hand down his jeans, squeezing his cock through his underwear, making an embarrassing amount of precum leak out and dampen the soft fabric. His eyes clamp shut as he presses into Jungkook again, hand trapped between them, still touching himself.

Jungkook pulls back from the kiss, his hair in disarray, lips already swollen and reddened and said the last thing Jimin expected him to,

“do you think we should slow this down?”

Jimin couldn’t help looking at Jungkook like he’d lost his fucking mind,

“what?” he gasped out, “no fucking way,” he told him, leaning back in for another kiss.

Jungkook dodged it briefly, “Min, seriously, are you sure?”

“Jungkook, for fuck's sake,” Jimin stated sternly, “I’ve waited for a very fucking long time, we need to speed things up, not slow down, please,” he begged, ending on a whiny note,   
hand still on his dick, hips still rutting him gently into Jungkook.

“Min, what is this?” Jungkook asked him urgently.

“This is you being mine and me being yours and to hell with what anyone else in the world thinks,” Jimin told him.

“But Min,” Jungkook said, “I am still married, you are still here, and neither of us can just drop everything and be together.”

Jimin stopped palming himself for a minute and sighed, “Kook, I know that, we both know that, and I don’t want you to walk away from your girls and I don’t think you want me to   
walk away from my art?” he questioned, continuing when Jungkook shook his head,

“but one day we will find a way right? For us to be together, the way we’ve always wanted to be, I don’t know how, but for now, let’s just be together, when we can, please?” Jimin asked.

“And that’s enough?” Jungkook asked, “because I don’t want to hurt you again, can’t go through that again.”

“You won’t, eyes wide open this time, we’ll talk right? If we have problems? Work them out together?”

Jungkook nodded, and smiled, “yeah, we can do that,” he agreed.

“Thank fuck,” Jimin told him, “now can we please get back to the sex thing because I’m about to fucking die by erection here.”

Jungkook giggled, “not sure that’s an actual thing Min,” he told him cheekily.

“Well let’s not risk it anyway,” Jimin told him, trying to sound serious, “come and see my bed?”

Jungkook laughed again, “I’ve seen it before,” he pointed out.

“I’ve, umm, got new sheets,” Jimin bluffed, standing up, holding his open jeans up with one hand, reaching for Jungkook with the other.

 

 

Jimin wasted no time stripping once they made it to his bedroom, getting naked in record time to appreciative glances from Jungkook,

“shit Min, you’ve really been working out,” Jungkook told him, voice low and husky, his arousal evident before pouting, “can I keep my shirt on?”

Jimin shook his head, “no way,” he breathed, “I’ve waited too long to see you naked again.”

“You’re going to be disappointed,” Jungkook winced, pulling his shirt off anyway, revealing his body.

Jimin looks him up and down, his jeans still sitting comfortably on slim hips. It’s true that where Jungkook’s muscles were hard and defined, they’ve faded, softening him, his stomach is just very slightly rounded now but the nipple rings are still there, and no matter what has changed, he’s still Jungkook and Jimin still loves him.

“Nice dad bod,” Jimin tells Jungkook softly, reaching for the front of his jeans to help him taken them off.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook replies with zero malice in his voice, “haven’t had much time over the last few years to hit the gym.”

“You’re perfect,” Jimin tells him, sliding his hands inside Jungkook’s jeans and underwear, over the naked swell of his ass, pushing the clothing down off his body, “perfect,” he repeats, licking over one of Jungkook’s nipples and starting to tease at the ring.

“No I’m not,” Jungkook protests, but weakly, distracted by Jimin working over his nipple.

“You’re perfect for me,” Jimin tells him between licks, “mine, you’re mine.”

Jungkook just moans as Jimin tugs particularly firmly, the way he remembered Jungkook liked to be teased.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook gasped, “where’s your lube?”

Jimin giggled, “top drawer, as always,” he quipped, because no matter where he’d lived, and what furniture had been in his bedroom, top drawer of the bedside table was always where the sex stuff had been kept.

“You or me?” Jungkook asked, lube in hand.

“Oh, me?” Jimin asked, “I want you to fuck me,” he finished shyly.

Jungkook smiled softly, “lie back then baby,” he told Jimin, voice almost hesitant.

Jimin got comfortable, he wanted to watch as much of this as he could, that was the plan until the first of Jungkook’s fingers rubbed gently across his hole and he very nearly lost control.

“Oh shit,” he groaned out, “please, fuck,” he begged.

“Needy today aren’t you?” Jungkook asked, almost conversationally.

“Yes,” Jimin hissed back, “so get on with it.”

He didn’t have to ask twice, Jungkook pushed into him with his index finger, making Jimin want to immediately ride it. He forced himself to stay as still as possible, spreading his legs wider on instinct.

“More please,” he begged.

Jungkook pulled out and pushed back in with two fingers, almost instantly crooking them, looking inside Jimin. When he felt Jungkook brush over his prostate the first time it was all Jimin could do not to scream. He sucked in a huge breath, gasping an,

“oh fuck,” making Jungkook rub him harder on the inside and then he was gone, coming untouched all over his stomach, grabbing at his pulsating cock to stroke himself through his orgasm. He only registered that Jungkook had face planted into his thigh as he was starting to breathe again.

“Kook,” he checked, wanting to make sure he was still alive. A little muffled sound reassured him that he was not dead,

“you ok?” he checked.

Jungkook looked up sheepishly, and Jimin instantly recognised the look on his face.

“You too?” he asked softly.

Jungkook nodded, face flushed.

“Aren’t we a bit old to be prematurely ejaculating all over the place?” Jimin questioned, voice sounding amused.

Jungkook huffed at him, “probably, but it’s been a really long time,” he grumbled.

And Jimin is suddenly aware that for Jungkook, it’s literally been years since the last time he’d had sex, since they’d last had sex together, and he feels kind of bad for ribbing him.

“Hey,” he calls to him softly, “come here?”

He holds out his arms, waiting for Jungkook to crawl into them, not caring that he was streaked with his own come and Jungkook’s fingers were still slick from the lube. They led for a bit, naked, cuddling, exchanging kisses and grins for a bit, happy, satiated, for now, content.

 

 

They must have dozed off together because when Jimin wakes up, just slightly too cold on the side that’s not pressed against Jungkook, and the sun is setting, casting warm orange light through the big windows and across the room. He tries to extract himself from Jungkook’s side without waking him, unsure if he wants to find some clothes, something to eat or pee first, but Jungkook wakes anyway, clearly on alert for him leaving. He grumbles as Jimin moves away, reaching for him, holding onto him even in his semi-conscious state.

“Kook, I have to pee,” Jimin tells him, voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t care,” Jungkook rumbles, his voice deepened further by sleep.

Jimin giggled, “I don’t recall that being part of our kinks conversation, picked up new interests over the years?”

Jungkook is silent for a second, clearly trying to process what Jimin is on about, then wrinkles his nose with his eyes still clamped shut, letting Jimin go

“Fuck off Min,” he sighed, “go pee, come back.”

Jimin grinned at Jungkook, “I might have a quick shower too, I’m kind of gross,” he told Jungkook softly.

Jungkook sighed, “no point,” he replied, “just going to get you dirty again when you come back.”

Jimin’s dick lurched at the implication and he escaped quickly out of the room before it could get too hard for him to be able to easily pee.

He didn’t go straight back to the bedroom, he headed, still naked, for the kitchen, hungry, wanting something to eat, fishing out a couple of protein bars from one of his cupboards he ripped one open, munching on it on his way back to the bedroom, swallowing the last of it before he snuggled back into bed with a still dozing Jungkook.

 

He pecked lightly at Jungkook’s lips, kissing him awake, cuddling into his warm body.

“You’ve been gone ages,” Jungkook grumbled.

Jimin smiled, “I have not, and I brought you a snack if you’re hungry?” he asked.

“Not hungry,” Jungkook told him, before his stomach betrayed him, rumbling loudly.

“Don’t want to stop kissing you and get out of bed to eat,” Jungkook amended.

“Just as well your ever loving boyfriend brought the food to you then,” Jimin told him again.

Jungkook’s eyes finally opened, “you did?” he asked, looking suddenly awake.

Jimin giggled, reaching for the protein bar, “yep,” he told him, handing it over.

Jungkook yanked open the packet, taking a big bite and chewing happily, briefly, when the flavour finally registered in his mouth he screwed up his nose, furiously chewing so he could swallow it,

“what the fuck is this?” he asked in disgust, trying to reassemble the label so he could read it.

“Just a protein bar,” Jimin told him, amused at his expression.

“It tastes awful,” Jungkook informed him, “why does it say its chocolate flavoured, it tastes nothing like chocolate.”

“Probably because it’s not loaded with like twenty tonnes of sugar,” Jimin told him, “it’s healthy.”

Jungkook screwed up his face again, “healthy snacks? What the fuck? You’ve changed,” he informed Jimin gravely, shoving the rest of the bar back into the packet and launching it onto the bedside table, “I’d rather go hungry,” he decided.

Jimin was openly laughing at Jungkook now, “you used to be all about healthy Kook,” Jimin told him.

“Yeah right,” Jungkook retorted, “back when we could eat fucking everything and anything and stay looking good, I miss those days,” he sighed wistfully, “now I have a bloody   
awful taste in my mouth that I need to get rid of, “ he paused before adding, “I’m going to suck your dick to sort that out,” decisively.

Jimin doesn’t even get time to wrap his head around the sudden change in the conversational direction before Jungkook is pushing the duvet off them and making his way back down between Jimin’s legs, lube in hand. He’d already started to lick at Jimin’s soft cock before he looked up, checking,

“that ok with you?”

Jimin nodded, “uh yeah, sure,” he choked out.

“Good, ok if I finger you too? I’d like to actually fuck you this time,” Jungkook checked.

Jimin’s dick, which had already started to respond to Jungkook’s tongue, twitched in his mouth at the suggestion and he felt, actually felt Jungkook smile around him.

“Please,” Jimin begged, “just maybe avoid certain little spots to start with.”

He felt Jungkook grin again, and the slide of his lips as he pulled off Jimin’s nearly solid dick.

“Yeah, good plan,” he chuckled, pressing kisses into Jimin’s thighs instead, leaving his saliva coated dick alone for now.

Jungkook took the suggestion, opening Jimin up with plenty of lube but zero prostate stimulation, it felt both amazing and frustrating at the same time and by the time he was easily sliding three fingers into Jimin, neither of them could wait any longer.

“Condom,” Jungkook choked out and Jimin nodded, reaching for them. He’d been tested and retested since the last time he’d had sex, so he knew he was clean, something of a massive relief considering the amazingly stupid risks he’d taken, but before they go bareback together he’s going to make sure they get tested together, for their total peace of mind. So, for now, condoms are the way to go.

He hands one to Jungkook, their fingers grazing each other, making them grin at each other soppily even in the midst of their passion.  
When Jungkook finally presses inside of him, filling him up, grazing past and rubbing his prostate, Jimin feels himself completely unravelling.  
He pulls Jungkook close, holding him tightly so Jungkook can barely rock in and out of him, but he wants this, needs this closeness. To hug and kiss each other, fully connected to each other again, finally. And holy shit was it worth the wait. Jungkook withdraws his hips as much as Jimin will allow him, sliding back in, pushing a little harder and a little harder each time. And then it’s not enough, Jimin wants even more, so he reluctantly lets Jungkook go, begging him for more. Jungkook doesn’t hold back, clearly wanting this as much as Jimin he picks up the pace, pushing in and withdrawing faster and faster, harder and harder. He comes first, with one final hard thrust into Jimin, and then some smaller, shallower ones as he rides it out. As he finishes he reaches for Jimin’s cock, squeezing it and stroking it as Jimin fucks up into his hand, making Jimin come too, adding a second layer of come to his already decorated chest.

Jungkook withdraws gingerly, flopping down onto his back, breathing hard,

“holy fucking fuck, I needed that,” he gasped out, turning his face to Jimin’s and pecking him lightly on the nose, “you have no idea how much I’ve missed that,” he added softly.

“I know,” Jimin told him quietly back, “I missed it too, missed you too.”

Jungkook threw his arm over Jimin’s chest to hug him but recoiled when he realised just how come splattered Jimin was, “gross,” he complained, “you really need a shower.”

Jimin laughed, “I told you that earlier, but yeah, definitely need one now,” he agreed.

They stumbled on jelly legs into Jimin’s bathroom, Jungkook ridding himself of the condom while Jimin heated up the water and got towels sorted.

They’ve showered together before, but not in this luxury, now there is more than enough space for them both, and more than enough water to keep them both warm, and it’s much better. They take their time, washing each other thoroughly, Jungkook getting somewhat distracted by Jimin’s new musculature, before they’re finally done and giggling as they dry themselves and each other off.

 

They’re both hungry once they’re dressed, foraging in the kitchen for something that they both agree on, sitting companionably at Jimin’s dining table, feeding themselves, feeding each other, hardly able to stop grinning at each other.

Neither of them is particularly tired, despite the late hour, more than likely thanks to the long nap they took earlier, so they curl up together on the couch, half watching something on TV, half chatting, conversation punctuated by kisses.

They finally head back to bed in the early hours of the morning, vaguely having discussed going out somewhere together tomorrow before Jungkook heads back to Busan, both privately acknowledging that they’ll likely stay in, making the most of their time together by being as naked as possible.

 

 

And when Jimin wakes up, to fingers dancing on his thigh, Jungkook lips on his neck and a hard cock grinding hopefully into his ass, he knows he was right. He doesn’t even bother opening his eyes far, wriggling briefly out of Jungkook’s grasp to grab a condom and the lube before passing it to him wordless and shedding his underwear before snuggling back into Jungkook.

Jungkook takes him from behind that morning, both lying on their sides, barely awake, rocking into each other lazily, Jungkook’s arms wrapped protectively around Jimin, kissing gently along his shoulder and his neck.

He feels loved, just so fucking loved and as they move together the only words that spill from between his lips to Jungkook are ‘I love you’. He tells Jungkook over and over again, and in return Jungkook tells him back. This is what he’s been fighting for, this is what he’s been working towards and all of the pain and the heartache has been worth it, because they’ve found their way back to each other, it’s taken them just short of ten long years but they’ve done it. He is Jungkook’s, and Jungkook is his, and there is nothing that will ever tear them apart again.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to anyone who spotted the burgeoning GTop I couldn't help writing in, it was too tempting not to!


End file.
